


Hunting and Gathering

by HalfASlug



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alcohol, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 07:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfASlug/pseuds/HalfASlug
Summary: Hardy is rudely awakened by Miller.





	Hunting and Gathering

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from jem-scribbles on tumblr: one of them cooks for the other and - oh shit!

Hardy woke up to a tapping sound. He blinked himself back to consciousness and saw he had fallen asleep on his sofa with a report on his chest.

The tapping noise continued. He squinted in the direction it was coming from and could just make out the blurry outline of two people standing outside his house. He groped around for his glasses, put them on and looked again.

It was Miller and Beth Latimer. By the looks of things they were both trying to loudly shush the other.

Groaning, he sat up and waved his hand vaguely to signal he had spotted them. He wasn’t too surprised by their sudden appearance. Miller had told him earlier that Beth had been feeling down and she was planning on taking her to the pub.

“I won’t be able to text you though,” she had told him in the middle of the explanation. “There’s a strict No Fellas rules.”

True to her word, Miller hadn’t contacted him at all. So, really, he should have expected something like this to happen.

As he made his way over to the door, he noticed Beth had sat down in his deckchair while Miller was grinning widely at him. It would have been cute if she hadn’t been swaying as well.

He opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“He’s gonna arrest us,” Beth stage whispered.

Miller giggled. “What for?”

“Peace disturbing.”

She shrugged. “I’ll arrest him. For being a knob.”

Beth nodded her head wisely. “Good plan.”

Hardy sighed. “Miller, as nice as it is to see you, it’s-” He checked his watch. “Three in the morning.”

“I got you this.” She held out a mess of greasy paper.

Hardy inspected it and saw what looked like had once been a kebab. “Right. Why?”

“Told you he’d be like this,” she said to Beth over her shoulder. “You always feed me.”

He took the kebab from her. It was true. Since they had started seeing each other he found a simple solution to them never finding out they had free time together with enough time to plan anything, as well as his hatred of being in public places, was to make dinner for them. A couple of times even their kids had joined them.

It wasn’t until Tom secretly told him he should come over every night because neither his mum or granddad could cook that Hardy stopped worrying that the boy hated him.

“And I hate all that… patriarchal bullshit-”

“Men are shit,” interrupted Beth.

“Yes! We said this,” Miller enthusiastically agreed. She spun on the spot and Hardy had to hold her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. “Fucking pigs.”

“Bastards. Lot of ‘em.”

Hardy turned Miller back around to face him. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them. From what he’d seen he could hardly say they were wrong, but he couldn’t allow them to get sidetracked.

“So you hate patriarchal bullshit….” Hardy said, wondering how on earth she managed to say patriarchal while this hammered.

“Right. So I hunted and gathered.” She pointed to the kebab proudly. “I ate some of it on the way here though. Sorry.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Hardy eyed the kebab and debated whether or not he should throw it in his neighbours bin in case Miller found it in his.

“You never eat,” she pointed out, prodding his stomach. “Beth, come poke him.”

“No, don’t-”

But Beth was already at Miller’s side, jabbing him in the ribs. “How does he live?”

“No idea.”

Hardy squirmed away from them. “Okay, okay - stop! I’ll eat the damn kebab!”

“He won’t,” Miller said miserably. “He hates my cooking.”

“You don’t cook.”

“See?”

“You didn’t cook _this_.”

Miller glared at him. “Prove it.”

Hardy sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting into an argument while she was like this was pointless. Plus he’d seen her take a down a fully grown man before and didn’t fancy a trip to hospital tonight.

“C’mere.” He pulled her into a hug, wincing as the kebab pressed against his t-shirt. “Thank you for the food.”

“I don’t want you to die,” she mumbled against him.

“‘M’not gonna die.”

“Will if you don’t eat.”

“I said I’d eat it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He kissed the top of her head. It might have been ill-timed and disgusting, but it was nice. Having someone care about him. Looking after him. It had been too long since he had it and he had forgotten the feeling.

He rested his head on top of hers, relishing the feeling of another person being home.

“Do you two want to have my bed? Save you faffing about with a cab?”

“Hm-mm.”

Hardy chuckled. She was already half asleep. He opened his eyes and looked around his garden.

“Shit. Where’s Beth?”


End file.
